


What is love?

by AbbieD_Arcy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Language of Flowers, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Poetry, Secret Admirer, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 10:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbieD_Arcy/pseuds/AbbieD_Arcy
Summary: "He sighed, knowing that his heart will be broken by another impossible love… even when was not going to stop loving him.Not now. Not ever."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dophne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dophne/gifts).



> Even if your birthday is tomorrow... HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOPH! You have been such a sweet darling to everyone in our group, always dealing with our special brand of crazy and never said anything.
> 
> We love you 3000 (and yeah I'm cliche like this)
> 
> So happy birthday Doph. Thanks for being our Cap.

He looked at the dark sky above him, breathing deeply. He knew his heart. That he couldn’t lie to himself anymore even if he tried to.

He loved him. How could he not love him?

He sighed, knowing that his heart will be broken by another impossible love… even when was not going to stop loving him.

Not now. Not ever.


	2. A drinking song - W. B. Yeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter has as a poem "A drinking song" by W.B. Yeats. And the flower, gardenias symbolize "Secret Love" in the language of flowers.

Eyeing the pot with distrust in his eyes, Steve looked at them with curiosity and nervousness. All those years being an Avenger he had learnt to be wary of things appearing out of thin air.

 

“FRIDAY, is this safe?”

“Yes Captain. It is safe.”

“You can’t tell me who put them in my office don’t you?”

“The sender asked to remain anonymous and gave me good arguments. He asked for you not to pry further.”

“Okay…”

 

Knowing that FRIDAY was sure the sender was safe, he picked the pot without so much distrust and smelt it. It was clean, like fresh cut grass and lemons, and reminded him of the perfume Pepper used. The tiny white flowers were in full bloom, and the leaves were shining against the light.

 

What he realized when he picked the blue pot was a letter, written with blue ink and addressed to him in big bold letters. It wasn’t written by anyone he knew; he had memorized everyone’s calligraphy...

 

But when he opened it and started reading he gaped, surprised.

 

_“Wine comes at the mouth_

_And love comes in at the eye;_

_That’s all we shall know for truth_

_Before we grow old and die._

_I lift the glass to my mouth,_

_I look at you and sigh._

_Every time I read this poem, it makes me think of you. Yeats understood quite well that inevitable moment when you look at the one who loves you… And you realize that he is the one you love._

_For my feelings for you are one of those universal things everyone knows. The sky is blue. The earth turns around the sun. And my heart has been yours since the first time I saw you smile.”_

 

It was a love poem… A love poem and a love letter? Addressed to him.

It took all his control and strength not to shake and tremble. But could this be true? Someone had left him flowers with a note… Surely it was just to cheer him up…

But his heart leaped on his chest, making him blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi in my twitter @abbied_arcy or my insta @pemberleystateofmind


	3. One hundred love poems - Pablo Neruda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This second chapter has as a poem by Neruda, "One hundred love poems" and the flower is a dark pink rose that means "Thankfulness"

How dare they to question Tony’s worthiness!!!

 

Enraged as he was with the press he closed the door of his bedroom, and pressed his forehead against it, trying to cool his rage. He was the truest hero of the team with such a big heart and a brave soul…

 

But they considered he hadn’t given enough to the world, they were always taking and taking.

 

But now he had Steve on his side keeping him safe. To fight for him. And damn all those vultures to hell.

 

Trying to even his breathing, he just let his mind to wander. And Tony came back to his mind… How well he hid himself behind those masks he had refined all his life, behind those fake smiles and cheerful behaviour.

 

But he could see behind. Those masks couldn’t fool him.

 

Realizing that his rage had cooled of he started to undress, wishing just to take a shower and sleep for a bit when he saw it.

 

A single dark pink rose laying on his bed with another letter in blue and unrecognizable calligraphy. And this one had another poem that made him sat, drinking the words written on the paper:

 

_“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,_

_or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:_

_I love you as one loves certain obscure things,_

_secretly, between the shadow and the soul._

_I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries_

_the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,_

_and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose_

_from the earth lives dimly in my body._

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you directly without problems or pride:_

_I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,_

_except in this form in which I am not nor are you,_

_so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,_

_so close that your eyes close with my dreams._

_Even if this one is quite long, I find myself understanding my mother about Neruda now. A love I can’t fully understand nor explain. But a love that it’s strong and unyielding, that sees behind the masks you put for the world and the press. I see that golden heart of yours defending someone who doesn’t defend himself and I think… That’s one of the reasons I love you.”_

 

He blushed hard smelling the rose. Whoever sent it was making him feel things he hadn’t felt. He had been the skinny and sickly kid in the neighbourhood. No one had ever given him flowers or love poems or love letters…

 

He didn’t dare to hope. But his rebellious heart was beating wildly on his chest, hopeful for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> say hi at @abbied_arcy (my twitter) or @pemberleystateofmind (insta)


	4. i carry your heart with me (I carry it in) - E.E. Cummings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem for the 3rd chapter, i carry your heart with me (I carry it in) by E.E. Cummings and the flowers are red carnations that mean deep love and admiration.

He had been drawing for a while now, sitting on the helipad of the Tower. He had a new sketch book, and he had been drawing New York sunrise trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.

 

But it was difficult when everything made him miss him.

 

The gold of the sunrise, like those beaming smiles of his; the true ones that made his heart halt in his chest and leap the next second. The dark coffee in the mug beside him; like his dark brown eyes after a night in the workshop, wild untamed hair and slender fingers tapping a melody he only heard…

 

He tried to clear his head, breathing deeply the crisp air of the morning; but he looked to his sketchpad knowing that the Iron Man would be coursing through the skies of Manhattan.

 

Not even drawing he could get him out of his mind.

 

Drinking what it was left of his coffee, he moved to the living room, carrying his supplies and cup. He left everything on the big table, where they usually had their team dinners... But when he picked his mug he saw them, lying on the kitchen isle. Beautiful red carnations tied with a white lace and the usual letter with them.

 

_“i carry your heart with me(i carry it in_

_my heart)i am never without it(anywhere_

_i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done_

_by only me is your doing,my darling)_

_i fear_

_no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want_

_no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)_

_and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant_

_and whatever a sun will always sing is you_

_here is the deepest secret nobody knows_

_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_

_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows_

_higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)_

_and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

_i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)_

_Even when we are separated or far away, I feel like you are always around me. I can hear your voice and I nearly turn around hoping to see your smile beside me. But now I’m far and missing you. And I feel like this poem of Cummings spoke just the words my heart is telling me._

_I carry you in my heart. Always.”_

 

But it was strange. Until now, it was only one flower. And now twelve carnations of all tones of red were in his hands making him wonder about the mysterious sender.


	5. Life and Death - Rumi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has the Forget-me-nots flowers that mean True Love/Don't Forget me; and the poem is a fragment from Rumi's poem Life and death.
> 
> Enjoy!

He found himself waiting for the next time the mysterious “Flower Poet” as he had dubbed it, was going to strike. Until now, the “Flower Poet” had only left the flowers when he was alone making them something intimate; shared only between them.

 

But the flowers stopped when the “Week from Hell” started. Threat after threat the Avengers had been working non-stop since the first call about a bomb threat to a group of schools, including Midtown; the school where Harley and Peter went.

 

The “Week from Hell” had ended with all of them on the Hospital Wing of the Tower, in several states of hurt and dead on their feet. But all of them alive and the threats contained and ended so everyone could finally go to sleep.

 

But he was still on the Wing, sitting beside a medically induced sleeping Tony who was lying on one of the beds. He had so many injuries that Doctor Cho had made Tony sleep; knowing that the genius will run away at the littlest chance.

 

Steve had only gone upstairs to change out of the suit; his place was beside his partner. And there he was, sitting beside him wearing sweatpants and a huge t-shirt watching his chest go up and down, reminding him that he was still alive and kicking.

 

Seeing him fall, hit with that blow, had been a revelation for him. He had gone and fell in love with his partner.

 

It had only taken for Tony to nearly die for him to realize his feelings.

 

Idiot.

 

Sighing, he stretched his neck and rubbed his shoulders, feeling all the kinks and knots in his backs snap and crack. He was tired, but he was not going to leave him alone. He could go with less sleep than any of them.

 

“Captain…”

 

Opening one of his eyes, he saw the young teen Tony had taken under his wing, looking at his mentor with worry in his doe eyes.

 

“Hey Peter. How are you?”

“Tired… worried… Seeing Mister Stark in that bed is…” he shook his head softly like he was trying to find the correct word to say. “But I came for you…”

“What do you need Peter?”

 

He moved his hand from his back, revealing a midnight blue pot and a familiar calligraphy in a letter envelope.

 

“This was on Mister Stark’s workshop. But, I think it is meant for you…”

 

He picked them, eyeing the flower… How had he known?

 

_“look at love how it tangles with the one fallen in love_

_look at spirit how it fuses with earth giving it new life_

_why are you so busy with this or that or good or bad_

_pay attention to how things blend_

_why talk about all the known and the unknown_

_see how the unknown merges into the known_

_why think separately of this life and the next_

_when one is born from the last_

_look at your heart and tongue one feels but deaf and dumb_

_the other speaks in words and signs_

_look at water and fire earth and wind_

_enemies and friends all at once_

_the wolf and the lamb the lion and the deer_

_far away yet together_

_look at the unity of this spring and winter_

_manifested in the equinox_

_you too must mingle my friends since the earth and the sky_

_are mingled just for you and me_

_be like sugarcane sweet yet silent_

_don’t get mixed up with bitter words_

_my beloved grows right out of my own heart_

_how much more union can there be_

_come on sweetheart_

_let’s adore one another before there is no more_

_of you and me…_

_This poem is too long for me to write it here. But what Rumi wrote, that longing and yearning. The knowledge that even after death, love still binds two souls together. My heart longs for you, even if I know it’s not a possibility. But I can’t forget you. You have become part of my heart, full of warm smiles and blue sky eyes…_

_I hope one day I can gather enough courage… Until then, my heart will long for you from far away but I give you these forget-me-nots hoping that your favourite flowers bring joy and make you smile._

_I love you. Forever and always.”_

 

That letter touched him deep in his heart. He felt that longing he talked about. He felt it every day, seeing those brown eyes spark with mischief. The wish to kiss those lips when he smiled after making a new discovery. The yearning to just hold him; to protect him after a nightmare. To keep him safe and protected between his arms away from the world.

 

He looked down to the flowers and caressed softly the petals of the forget-me-nots he had received. He loved those flowers, a symbol of love and memory ever since he was a child.

 

Who would know his favourite flower?

 

The circle narrowed over his mysterious “Flower Poet”…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi at twitter @abbied_arcy or my insta @pemberleystateofmind


	6. When you come to love - Ruben Darío

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is special, cause the poem is translated by myself. The original one is called "Cuando llegues a amar" and I'm sorry if I translated it badly... 
> 
> Also the flowers are daffodils... But the menaing is in the chapter!
> 
> Tootles everyone

He was siting alone in the kitchen isle, biting bits of his breakfast without any hunger or joy. He was tired, hurt and wishing for the day to end.

 

Having an argument with Tony always left him cold and hurt. The genius had an amazing aim wherever it was with his repulsors or trying to hurt someone.

 

And damn it had hurt.

 

Being reminded of how he was “out of his time” had hurt him. How he was just brawns and muscle… who was only good for fighting. An idiot only worthy for his strength.

 

The rest of the team watched him worried. Steve was looking so depressed right now… And let’s not mention how Tony had been holed in the workshop for days without getting out and not even Rhodes or Peter’s attempts to get in had been fruitful.

 

“This time is bad. Both of them are miserable, worried and sad.”

“Idiots. Fucking idiots” Clint said rubbing his temples. It was bad when Cap and Tony were hostile at each other; but after becoming friends their fights were headache inducing for him.

“Tony was worried… If he had not…”

“Captain you have a package in reception. Mister Hogan is bringing it up.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY”

 

Sighing he moved to the elevator door, and when Happy saw him he frowned, his dark eyes full of concern. And in his hands, three beautiful daffodils in a long vase.

 

“Captain… I fear these are for you.” He passed them

“They are only daffodils Happy…” Peter said, looking at the beautiful flowers… and Happy sighed at the young hero.

“Peter, sending daffodils means that someone is in love with Cap, but they have decided to respect the unrequited feelings they feel for the person they are giving the flowers.” Natasha explained, sighing. This confirmed her suspicions and Cap was looking downright miserable…

“Don’t forget about the chivalry and “you are the only one” Tasha!” Clint said, wide-eyed looking at the daffodils like they were a bomb he cannot deactivate.

“It has a letter!” Wanda said looking at Happy’s hand.

“Give it to me Happy…”

 

Cap was looking tired. He had researched a bit his gifts. All the flowers spoke of love and falling in love with the other person… What had sparked that change in the flowers?

 

_“When you come to love, if you haven't loved before,_

_you will know that this world_

_is the greatest and deepest pain._

_It will be a happy and miserable time_

_Colorario: Love is an abyss_

_of light and shadow, poetry and prose,_

_and where things become more difficult,_

_what is to laugh and to cry at the same time_

_The worst, most terrible thing,_

_is that to live without him is impossible_

_Even when I know my feelings are unrequited, my heart will always be yours. The daffodils are my last gift. So beautiful flowers to explain so much pain… and so many feelings… You told me I was reckless, and hurt those who love me… And you are right._

_Darío was right in this poem… When you have loved, trying to live without him is nearly impossible._

_Be happy and safe Steven._

 

It was like an echo of a nightmare, a cold shudder and the paper of his hands fell to the floor…

 

“IF YOU WANT TO DIE, FINE! YOU ARE RECKLESS AND HURT THOSE WHO LOVES YOU BECAUSE OF IT!”

 

“Tony…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuando llegues a amar - Ruben Darío 
> 
> Cuando llegues a amar, si no has amado,  
> sabrás que en este mundo  
> es el dolor más grande y más profundo  
> ser a un tiempo feliz y desgraciado.
> 
> Corolario: el amor es un abismo  
> de luz y sombra, poesía y prosa,  
> y en donde se hace la más cara cosa  
> que es reír y llorar a un tiempo mismo.
> 
> Lo peor, lo más terrible,  
> es que vivir sin él es imposible.  
> -...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...
> 
> Come say hi at @abbied_arcy (twitter) or @pemberleystateofmind (insta)


	7. Love's Language - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sixth poem is Love's Language by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. And three flowers, Freesia for trust, innocence and passion; a rose in full bloom for I love you and a primrose to say I can't live without you

Knowing how stubborn Tony was, Steve waited. He was good at it, even if the waiting was killing his nerves.

 

He asked about the flowers, because he didn’t want to accidentally fuck it more than he had, so he went to Nat. She looked at him straight in the eye and keeps the contact. Three seconds later, he had a list of flowers with the correct meanings.

 

He bought only one of them, no need to overdo himself. These talked about his heart, about what he felt for him…

 

The poem was an easy one to pick. Peter was having a unit in Literature about female writers, and he had been excited to help him find the correct one… So he started writing on the paper pouring his heart and soul in it.

 

He hoped Tony understood…

…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---

Tony went to the penthouse, red rimmed eyed and aching bones. He was so stupid… He had gone and allowed himself to falling in love with Steve, allowed himself to believe he will love him… After seeing the videos of him finding the flower he had believed… But no.

 

But that argument had hurt him on the core. And he had run away, as he always did, not wanting to deal with his feelings.

 

It was FRIDAY, his Irish lovely girl the one that worried had pleaded for him to get some sleep and food. And she reminded him so much of JARVIS that he had caved and gone upstairs.

 

What he hadn’t expected was to find in the kitchen isle three flowers lying there. He knew what they were, of course he did. He could hear Anna Jarvis voice beside him, calm and sweet…

 

A red rose in full bloom to say I love you…

A freesia for trust, innocence and passion…

A primrose for I can’t live without you…

 

“Darling FRIDAY is this what I think it is?” he said in a soft tone, nearly trembling.

“Boss we both know it. But please… We’ve been talking…” she knew him. She knew his first idea would be to run as far as he could. However, he had never had a reason to distrust his darling Irish rose…

“FRI, you know what he wrote?”

“Yes Boss… You should read it.” She said with a soft and sweet voice.

 

He trusted her. She was his youngest child, the most protective of him. Born of sadness and will, of his dearest JARVIS parts…

 

So he picked the letter, written is a perfect calligraphy he loved so much.

 

_How does Love speak?_

_In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,_

_And in the pallor that succeeds it; by_

_The quivering lid of an averted eye--_

_The smile that proves the parent to a sigh_

_Thus doth Love speak._

_How does Love speak?_

_By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak_

_Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache,_

_While new emotions, like strange barges, make_

_Along vein-channels their disturbing course;_

_Still as the dawn, and with the dawn's swift force--_

_Thus doth Love speak._

_How does Love speak?_

_In the avoidance of that which we seek--_

_The sudden silence and reserve when near--_

_The eye that glistens with an unshed tear--_

_The joy that seems the counterpart of fear,_

_As the alarmed heart leaps in the breast,_

_And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest--_

_Thus doth Love speak._

_How does Love speak?_

_In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek--_

_The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender_

_And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor;_

_In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace_

_In all fair things to one beloved face;_

_In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble;_

_In looks and lips that can no more dissemble--_

_Thus doth Love speak._

_How does Love speak?_

_In the wild words that uttered seem so weak_

_They shrink ashamed in silence; in the fire_

_Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher,_

_Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;_

_In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,_

_Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins,_

_Between the shores of keen delights and pains;_

_In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,_

_And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss--_

_Thus doth Love speak._

_When I realized it was you the one wooing me Tony; the foundations of my heart and life trembled._

_It was you. All along it was you leaving me flowers that meant love, poems that talked about your thoughts and letters that spoke about your heart and soul._

_After our fight, I reread every letter. I kept every single one of them with the flowers pressed inside one of my sketchbook. It was so obvious it was you… So much heart and soul poured into those letters._

_How can I not love the man that helps everyone who needs him? The man who gave me not only a home but a new family to protect and love? The man who forgave my best friend, the man that keeps me safe in and out the fights?_

_Even when we fight, your passion shines in your eyes. You fight for what you believe it’s alright. For what you believe is ok. Even if our opinions clash, I trust you._

_I trust you Tony. With my life. With the team. With myself and my heart._

_This poem, which Peter helped me to pick… It’s my heart talking. It’s my heart yearning for you knowing that I can’t live without you in my life. It’s my soul missing you every time you need to do a trip for Stark Industries. It’s me awake at night seeing you beside me, under me, on top of me…_

_I hope you like the flowers…_

_S._

 

His breath hitched and he grabbed the isle. Like everything he did, Steve was brazen and direct and had left him trembling and blushing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi at @abbied_arcy at twitter and instagrama @pemberleystateofmind


	8. Sonnet 126 - Lope de Vega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this last poem is special for me 'cause Lope and the Sonnet 126 are one of my fav poems of all time. Also the flowers I picked for this last chapter are important... White and red tulips to ask for forgiveness and tell the other that is your "True Love"
> 
> It's been a pleasure to do this as your gift Doph!

Steve prepared for the rest of the week. He had chosen the flowers, but the poem was a suggestion from Natasha who, after hearing his friends pleads gave him a book she bought during her latest mission and told him to go to the 126.

 

Perfect.

 

He laid the flowers on the table and prayed to everything he could think about…

 

…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---…---

 

Tony knew Steve would give him more flowers. More like hoped, cause after that letter? If he didn’t, he was going to skin him alive or pin him in his bed and have his wicked way with him.

 

He was not sure what he was going to do, still deciding it.

 

Yes, they had hurt each other during that fight. They had, as always, run their mouths and said the most hurtful things they could. In addition, their fear for each other apparently had worked against them…

 

Seriously if he didn’t do anything quickly he was going to die. Soon.

 

“Boss, you need me to save these files? You haven’t touched them in a while…”

“Sorry Darling. Please save them, send them to KAREN and close the holopad.” He said, stretching a bit like a cat.

 

He moved off the bed, thoughts of Steve and the flowers never leaving his mind. At the time, the idea of gifting Steve the flowers and the poems had been just a way to make him know about his feelings like Jarvis had done at the time with Anna.

 

But his letters had become more and more intimate. More and more heartfelt…

 

KNOCK KNOCK

 

Two strong knocks in the door at… 3 a.m. in the morning? Worried that something had happened to someone he went and opened the door.

 

What he didn’t expected to see was Steve with a bouquet of white tulips and a red one smiling sheepishly at him.

 

“What…?”

“I came to give you your last flowers Tony… And your letter.”

 

Blushing Tony picked it, Steve’s blue eyes watching him open the letter still clutching the bouquet.

 

_To pass out, to dare, to be furious,_

_Hard, tender, generous, elusive,_

_Emboldened, mortal, dead, alive,_

_Loyal, treacherous, cowardly and undaunted:_

_To find neither meaning nor rest beyond the bounds of good,_

_To act now sanguine, now sad, now humble, now haughty,_

_Irate, courageous, fugitive,_

_Satiated, offended, suspicious:_

_To turn your back at blatant disappointment,_

_To drink of venom as though it were nectar,_

_To forgo gain, to love harm:_

_To believe there is heaven in hell,_

_To surrender your life and soul to disappointment,_

_That’s what love is; he who drank of it knows it._

 

Dark brown eyes tried to find the blue ones, but Steve was hiding behind the flowers. It was so not like him, who was always so in control to be so flustered that Tony found it endearing. But he was having none of that, so he put two fingers under his chin waiting until he looked at him in the eyes.

 

“You choose that sonnet from Lope de Vega… Why?”

“It speaks about what I feel. How love and my love for you feels. Neither our love nor us are perfect. We have hurt each other, fought against each other… But at the end of the day, you are the one I love. Ever since you knocked me off my horse and told me I was “a good little soldier that only followed orders”. I’m so stupidly in love with you Tony that it’s not even funny anymore.” He laughed, a bit teary eyed.

 

Keeping his eyes locked with Steve’s he picked the tulips and smelt them. Forgiveness and love… How could he not grant them when he was looking at him with those baby blues?

 

Leaving them on the table, Tony smiled and tiptoeing ‘till he was closer and kissed him fully on the lips.

 

Steve let his hands rest against Tony’s hips getting him close; Tony let himself enjoy Steve’s warmth and muscles under his shirt, grabbing his shoulders to keep himself steady.

 

They separated enough to catch a breath, keeping their foreheads together. Playfully, Steve brushed his nose against Tony’s making Tony smile and steal a peck from the supersoldier.

 

“Now what do we do?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to sleep… If you want to join me” he let with a smile and the supersoldier took a step inside

“Only if you promise me to help me with the pancakes tomorrow”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soneto 126 - Lope de Vega
> 
> Desmayarse, atreverse, estar furioso,  
> áspero, tierno, liberal, esquivo,  
> alentado, mortal, difunto, vivo,  
> leal, traidor, cobarde y animoso:
> 
> no hallar fuera del bien centro y reposo,   
> mostrarse alegre, triste, humilde, altivo,  
> enojado, valiente, fugitivo,  
> satisfecho, ofendido, receloso:
> 
> huir el rostro al claro desengaño,  
> beber veneno por licor süave,   
> olvidar el provecho, amar el daño:
> 
> creer que el cielo en un infierno cabe;  
> dar la vida y el alma a un desengaño,  
> ¡esto es amor! quien lo probó lo sabe.

**Author's Note:**

> Say happy birthday or hi in the comments or whatever you like! Kudos and reviews (always respectful of course) are highly appreciated!
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
